


Coincidence

by quokkall



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode: s03e02 Kill Ari Part 2, F/M, Kill Ari AU, Tiva fic amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 19:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11191419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quokkall/pseuds/quokkall
Summary: Kill Ari AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally only going to post this on tumblr in the spirit of Tiva Fic Amnesty. Jennfics and Sharinat (check them out here on AO3) came up with the idea after Michael Weatherly left NCIS, to give writers a chance to post stories about our favorite duo that are very short, unfinished, unedited,...and would probably never be finished due to lack of inspiration or motivation.
> 
> This is the very first fic I've written. Reading it again makes me realize my writing has improved, and that, as much as I have always wanted to update this story, it would be a lot of work, and it no longer holds my interest enough to actually sit down and rewrite it.
> 
> So I'm posting this, for anyone desperate to read some more Tony and Ziva (it didn't end up being actual Tiva). In case you're wondering, the story has an ending, but it is an open ending (I think I originally intended to write an epilogue, but didn't).
> 
> So, yeah, if you don’t mind subjecting yourself to my first writing attempt in over two decades; enjoy.

Taking shallow breaths, to keep the smoke out of his plague-scarred lungs, Tony lifted his head, his body still covering a girl. The deafening silence and smoke from the bomb blast disoriented him. _Was there further imminent danger? Or had the one suicide bomber been working alone?_

The girl underneath him stirred.

Relieved she was alive, he decided now was a good time to mentally check his own body for injuries. Coming up with nothing that seemed too serious, or too painful, Tony slowly got up, warning the girl to stay down. 

His now vertical position gave him a better view of the scene. Dozens of people were lying on the ground, some moving, some…not. He could make out dismembered body parts, but tried not to dwell on them. He’d seen some pretty horrible crime scenes as a cop and federal agent, including a few bombings. There was a big difference, though, between seeing the aftermath of a bombing, when the survivors crying out for help had already been taken to a hospital, and experiencing a bombing first hand.

Despite his earlier warning, he could see the girl slowly starting to sit up, a dazed expression on her face. _Perhaps she didn’t understand English_ , he thought. _Or, more likely, she couldn’t hear anything but muffled sounds and ringing, much like him_.

Crouching down next to her, Tony forced her to look at him, and slowly asked,  “Are you okay?”

When she gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded her head, he knew she’d understood. He noticed a cut on her forehead that was bleeding, but experience told him it probably wasn’t too serious. She looked pretty much unharmed otherwise.

Helping her all the way up, he decided to move her away from the scene, to the bar across the street. A man holding a stack of towels hurried out of the bar, and Tony stopped him momentarily to grab a few of them.

Tony was about to look for victims he could help, when movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Looking over, he saw the girl he’d just saved head towards him. She took a towel from him, her eyes fixed on the still body of a teenager laying nearby. Judging by the look on her face, it was someone she knew.

They both approached the body and started checking for injuries underneath torn and bloody clothes. Tony applied pressure with a towel to the first wound he discovered, which was bleeding profusely. He glanced at the girl crouching at the other side of the body. The teenager’s hands moved fast all over her friend’s motionless body, as if she knew what she was doing. Discovering another heavily bleeding wound on her friend’s leg, she applied pressure to it, looking around her while shouting something in Hebrew.

Tony felt relieved when one of the paramedics finally reached them. The teenage girl started talking and pointing at her friend’s injuries, and after nodding and doing a cursory check, the paramedic waved over a colleague to help carry the injured teenager towards a waiting ambulance.

He saw the worried look of the girl beside him turn to one of determination as she moved to another victim.  Beckoning him over, she guided his hands to where he should put pressure, before moving on to another victim close by.

As more ambulances arrived, there seemed to be no need for them to help anymore, so Tony gestured to the girl to follow him back to the cafe. IDF soldiers were collecting what Tony assumed was evidence of the bombing. He doubted there would be much left of the suicide bomber, though. As his gaze drifted from the carnage across the street, to the girl now sitting next to him, he thanked his lucky stars, and his training, for keeping both of them from sustaining more serious injuries.

Earlier, when he’d seen a man wearing a bulky jacket the Israeli heat didn’t call for, his gut had started to churn. It wasn’t until he’d caught a glimpse of a small device in the man’s hand, with a wire running up his sleeve, that his cop instinct had kicked into full gear. Just as he’d decided to approach the man and try to take him down, the terrorist had looked in his direction and locked eyes with him. His face had morphed into an angry scowl and Tony had known he couldn’t reach him in time to stop him. He’d yelled for everybody to get down, not knowing if it would do any good, and instinctively tackled the person that had been standing closest to him, who looked like she was about to follow a friend in the direction of the bomber. They had barely hit the ground when he’d heard the deafening explosion and felt the heat and shockwave roll over them.

He wondered how things had gone so horribly wrong, so fast. He had come to Tel Aviv a couple of days ago, to gather intel on the whereabouts of the Hamas terrorist that had murdered his partner. It was supposed to have been a relatively easy and safe mission. Yet 4 hours ago, he’d been shot at by sniper—the bullet had barely grazed the top of his shoulder—and now, he’d almost been blown to pieces by a suicide bomber. Not even the prospect of a close encounter of the naked kind with the gorgeous brunette he’d bumped into early that morning, could persuade him to stay in Tel Aviv any longer than was absolutely necessary.

Noticing some improvement in his hearing, he decided to ask the teenage girl her name after introducing himself. One of the girl’s eyebrows shot up as he mentioned being a US federal agent, and she told him her name was Tali.

“No serious injuries, Tali? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“Only some minor scrapes and bruises, that is all. I would be in the hospital with my friend Yael…or worse, if you had not protected me.” She looked down at her hands, caked with dirt and dried blood. “Thank you,” she said, making eye contact, a solemn expression on her face.

“I’d say anytime, but I’d rather not get blown up again,” he said with a smile. Joking to lighten the mood in serious situations had become a knee-jerk reaction over the years.

“Tell me, Special Agent DiNozzo, what is a US federal agent doing in Tel Aviv?” she asked.

He tried to charm his way out of answering the question; officially he wasn’t even supposed to be there. So he mentioned an excess of vacation days, beaches and hot Israeli women. He threw in his trademark grin, the one that seemed to work on most women, young and old alike, for good measure.

When she asked him if he always carried a badge when going on vacation, Tony knew he hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped in claiming to be just another tourist.

He didn’t have to try and change the subject, though, as she pointed at several cuts on his arms, and mentioned that his back appeared to have several more injuries - judging by the blood on his shirt. She suggested escorting him to a hospital. He declined, saying it didn’t feel that bad and he’d take care of it later. The hospitals would be too busy right now anyway, and he didn’t feel like spending the rest of the day in an overcrowded ER.

_And_ , he thought, _I need to bring the boss up to speed, and see if he was able to find out whether he had been targeted by a sniper earlier, or whether that had been part of everyday life in the Middle East._

“Come to my home, I will take care of your injuries. They are covered in dirt, they will become infected if not cleaned properly,” she said. “If you get an infection you will not be able to…enjoy your vacation,” she added, and raised an eyebrow.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, and couldn’t help but feel a little paranoid after the day he was having.

“I volunteer at a hospital,” she explained, “I want to be a doctor. And, it is the least I can do after you saved my life.”

Weighing his options—staying out in the open after almost dying twice in one day didn’t really seem like a good idea, and taking care of the injuries on his back would be a hit and miss effort later on—Tony decided to accept the somewhat professional help. Worrying about injuries becoming infected shouldn’t be on his to do list while he waited to hear back from his boss.

***

It was only a 15 minute walk to Tali’s apartment, and he had spent most of that time talking about nothing important. Even though she didn’t look too freaked out about what had just happened, he knew that asking questions and talking about nonsense had a tendency to put victims somewhat at ease and keep them focused.

The first thing Tony did after entering the apartment was take in his surroundings; a table, some chairs, a book case, two rooms to his left.

Framed pictures on the wall to his right drew his attention; one of 2 young girls, another with 2 girls and an older boy. The last picture, of a young woman wearing the typical olive drab uniform of the IDF, made him clench his jaw. She looked a couple of years younger in the picture, around 18 probably, but that was definitely the woman that had bumped into him earlier that day. No more than an hour before he was shot at by a sniper.

His boss didn’t believe in coincidences, and quite frankly, neither did he. Replaying the events of that encounter in his head, his gut started to churn again.

He glanced sideways at Tali, and asked, “Who is that?”

“That is my sister, Ziva. She had just joined the IDF when the picture was taken. You look like you have seen her before?”

“Last time I saw your sister she was trying to kill me.”

“That does not sound like Ziva, you must be mistaken,” she answered.

Tony looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“Well, judging by the picture, she’s in the IDF. Are you implying she never learned how to kill someone in the army?”

“No, I am implying that if my sister received the order to kill you, you would be dead,” she said with a somewhat amused expression on her face.

Their conversation halted when they heard the front door opening and closing, followed by a female voice that sounded slightly distressed.

“That would be my sister now,” Tali said. “If what you said is true, and she did try to kill you, you might want to put your hands in the air.”

As soon as Ziva caught a glimpse of Tony standing in her living room, next to her sister, he was staring down the barrel of her gun. She said something to Tali in Hebrew, but all he could make out was that it sounded more like an order than anything else.

“He saved my life, Ziva” Tali blurted out, positioning herself between him and the very angry looking Israeli standing in the doorway.

Ziva’s eyes barely moved away from Tony long enough to look at Tali. If Tony hadn’t been a trained investigator, excelling at reading body language, he would’ve missed it.

“The Hamas bombing?” Ziva questioned in English, then continued in Hebrew, “I tried to call you, you did not answer, so I came here looking for you. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” There was a hint of worry in her voice.

“I am not hurt, but Agent DiNozzo is. I said I would help him,” Tali replied in English.

Ziva’s eyes were still trained on Tony, sizing him up. She had briefly made contact with him that morning. According to her orders, he was working with a Hamas terrorist group and she was to take him out.

***

Her father, the deputy director of Mossad, didn’t want to risk Hamas getting a foothold in the US. Mossad had worked with the FBI and CIA before, when American citizens were suspected of helping terrorists, but not always. The Agencies wouldn’t always be very cooperative, and Mossad had taken out targets without their knowing on one or two occasions.

The deputy director had claimed the NCIS agent had become a double agent for Hamas, and his partner of 2 years, Kate Todd, had been killed in the process. Now that Agent DiNozzo was in Israel, he presented an even bigger danger.

Ziva’s stakeout had begun as soon as the American had arrived at the airport three days ago. Early that morning, she had witnessed him meet with one of the female terrorists of the group her brother Ari had infiltrated. According to the deputy director, this jeopardized Ari’s cover and he needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.

Ziva had felt conflicted; during the three days of watching her target from afar, and sometimes from mere feet away, she had seen some behavior that struck her as odd. Her gut had told her there was more to this American than met the eye. Overhearing parts of the agent’s phone conversation after his meeting with the female terrorist, she had concluded that Tony DiNozzo had in fact not gone rogue, but was trying to infiltrate her brother’s group himself.

To what purpose, she did not know.

That morning, her father had impatiently asked her what was taking her so long. It became clear to her that the order to kill the American wasn’t open for discussion. _Well, were orders ever open for discussion?_ So Ziva had kept her mouth shut and told him she would complete her mission that day.

Going against Mossad protocol, she had made contact with the American an hour later. Deciding a casual chat would reveal a lot about his true intentions, she had bumped into him, spilling a drink all over his shirt. Not exactly an original move, but it always worked.

Flirting with him, she had quickly learned he wasn’t expecting to be in Israel much longer. The way he was distracted by her legs – she knew wearing a short dress for this stint was the right decision– gave her plenty of opportunity to extract some more information from him. To get a feel for what kind of a person he was.

She was a good judge of character and she knew how to read people. It was part of what made her so good at her job. Unfortunately, that was also the part that sometimes made it difficult to follow orders blindly.

Ziva had hoped her little stint would’ve appeased her doubts. It hadn’t.  At all.

She was now convinced her father had either kept important details from her, or was given wrong information. Knowing she couldn’t blatantly disregard a direct order from the deputy director of Mossad, she decided to blow the mission.

An hour after “accidentally” bumping into the agent, she had watched him sip a coffee through the scope of her sniper rifle, from a roof top across the street. She had thought one bullet, barely scraping his shoulder, would be enough to make her father think she was intent on finishing the job, and hopefully make the American contact his higher-ups for an extraction.


	2. Chapter 2

“You tried to kill me this morning,” Tony said, not taking his eyes of Ziva.

Ziva’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Clearly she had underestimated this Agent DiNozzo. There was no way he could’ve known it was her on the rooftop. He must’ve put two and two together and figured that her bumping into him earlier that day was not a coincidence.

“If I had tried to kill you, you would not be standing here.”

“That’s what your sister said. So why didn’t you? Didn’t want to remove my handsome features from the gene pool?” he quipped. When in doubt, deflect with humor, that was his motto, anyway. His joking had proved useful on many occasions; distracting suspects, putting victims at ease. It also earned him a head slap from his boss every now and then.

The fact that he wasn’t on the floor in a pool of his own blood reassured him, ever so slightly, that Ziva must have had a good reason not to kill him. Having a gun aimed at his head was getting on his nerves, though.

“You can lower the gun, you know, I’m unarmed. It’s surprisingly hard to bring a gun into Israel, even for a US federal agent with all the right papers.”

He was pretty sure she already knew he was a federal agent, but figured it couldn’t hurt to remind her. The US government would not take kindly to a dead federal agent on Israeli soil. And Israel needed all the help they could get from their allies.

“You do not need a gun to kill someone,” Ziva replied

“Well, I don’t see anything here I could possibly use as a weapon, so I think –“

He had been slowly lowering his hands, when a little flick upwards of the barrel of the gun made him think better of it.

“Seriously, I’m not a threat,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice calm and even. “I’m in Israel to find information on the Hamas terrorist who killed my partner.”

For the second time, he saw Ziva’s eyes narrow. _That had clearly struck a nerve._

She said something in Hebrew, and he saw Tali give him a look of sympathy, before walking towards another room. He swallowed hard, this did not look good for him.

He opened his mouth to postpone whatever would surely be coming next, when he saw Ziva nod towards one of the chairs.

“Hands on the table.”

Sitting down slowly, placing his hands on the table he noticed a slight change in her expression. She seemed somewhat amused by the way he had reacted to her sending her sister to another room.

Sliding the chair opposite him away from the table and sitting down, she put away her gun.

This seemed to ease his nerves. At least, until Ziva commented that there were at least five other objects within arm’s reach that she could kill him with.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Tony deadpanned.

“Talk.”

Tony had been told to shut up plenty of times, never to start talking. So in order to try and throw the Israeli off her game, he started rattling off his life story. Beginning at his earliest memories at the age of three.

She indulged him for a couple of minutes. When he was telling the story, in detail, of how he had set fire to his parents’ kitchen at the age of five, though, Ziva realized they could be there all week.

“I created a very extensive background file on you, Agent DiNozzo-“

“That’s _Very_ Special Agent DiNozzo,” he interrupted.

“I suggest you start talking voluntarily about what you’re doing here. Unless you want me to practice my interrogation techniques on you. Techniques which happen to be very illegal in the US.”

Staring her in the eye for a couple of seconds, he concluded that his usual banter wouldn’t faze her. Remembering the look Tali had given him and the fact that he was out here with no back-up, he figured telling the truth would seriously increase his chances of not being sent home in a body bag. Assuming the Israelis wouldn’t just make his body disappear altogether.

Explaining everything that happened, from a certain Hamas terrorist breaking into the Navy Yard to standing next to his partner when she was shot, he ended with how he had come to Tel Aviv trying to find out where Ari was.

Even though her face remained expressionless throughout, her eyes told she was unaware of the details of what went down in the US with Hamas.

“Now you know my story, tell me, why does the IDF want me dead?”

“Who says the IDF wants you dead?” she replied.

“I saw the picture of you in uniform…” He touched a finger to his lips. “Wait, you’re not IDF anymore are you?”

A smirk appeared on Ziva’s face, when she saw the intrigue on Tony’s face.

“You’re Mossad,” he said matter of factly.

He started grinning, unable to hide how much he liked how this situation was turning into something out of a Bond movie. He briefly wondered if he would be as successful with this exotic female spy as Bond always was in the movies.

Before he could make a lewd Bond girl reference, though, Ziva’s cell phone rang. Never taking her eyes of him, smirk still in place because of the excitement she now saw in his eyes, she answered the phone.

From the tone of the conversation, Tony concluded it wasn’t going well.

“Lover’s quarrel?” he said as she hung up the phone, a look of annoyance gracing her beautiful features.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she said “That was the deputy director of Mossad…inquiring why you are still alive.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but I’ve been wondering the same thing. From what I’ve gathered from your sister, you’re not exactly the type to question orders.”

“What evidence do you have that Ari killed your partner?”

Tony weighed his options after she completely ignored his question; refusing cooperation with the agency that put a hit on him, trying to charm her pants off, or trusting his gut and confiding in the assassin that was sent to kill him. He didn’t exactly see the first two options ending well—very graphic images of a bullet in his head and a possible castration came to mind—he decided to go with his gut.

“We matched the bullet that killed Kate to his rifle.”

“That is hardly evidence,” Ziva said.

“A little bird at the FBI told us Ari’s actually a Mossad operative, working deep undercover. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Tony studied her face, hoping she would give away something. Anything. Then he continued, “Everything we’ve been able to dig up so far points to Ari having gone rogue. Is that why your director wants me dead? Because he doesn’t want anyone to find out he lost control of one of his officers?”

“Ari has not gone rogue.”

The clipped tone of voice and flash of anger he had seen on her face, told Tony he had finally gotten under her skin. He took that as a sign to probe around some more. Maybe he’d finally get some answers this time.

“Looks like I struck a cord,” he said.

Her brow furrowed, not understanding.

“What is he, your boyfriend?”

No reaction. Not exactly what he’d expected. Seeing how her face had gone completely blank again, Tony was pretty sure she wouldn’t lose control again.

Ignoring the question, she said, “My orders were to kill a rogue NCIS agent who took up communication with Ari’s terrorist group.” She looked at him pointedly, leaving no room for error as to who that NCIS agent was. “I hope you realize that if you ever tell anyone about what I just told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“You’re all about the killing aren’t you?” he said, not sure what to make of this turn of events. “Where exactly did Mossad get that information from?”

“Ari.”

Tony felt his eyes go wide, realizing he was in real trouble if the deputy director of Mossad believed one of his undercover operatives, who had clearly crossed over to the dark side. With no back-up, he had no choice but to trust the Mossad officer in front of him to help him set things straight. Seeing as Ziva clearly wasn’t allowed to discuss her mission with anyone, there’s no way she would allow him to call the director of NCIS to clear things up with Mossad.

“Look, I know you have no reason to trust me- “

“You are right, I do not.”

“But,” he continued, “I told you the truth.” He looked in her eyes, willing her to believe him.

“I believe him,” Tali said, standing in the doorway.

Ziva hadn’t taken her eyes of Tony the whole conversation, but now her eyes quickly darted into the direction of her sister. Tony realized having Tali there could be to his advantage; maybe Tali could convince Ziva to help him.

“If I truly had gone rogue, joining Hamas, why would I’ve bothered to save an Israeli during a Hamas bombing?”

Again, Ziva’s eyes flicked towards Tali, who was now standing at Tony’s side of the table. Ziva had to give her credit for staying well outside of his reach, though, should he try something desperate. Biting his tongue—he had the feeling starting to babble would increase the risk of Ziva becoming frustrated and taking it out on him—he just kept looking into her eyes.

He could tell she was putting all the pieces together, trying to come up with a logical conclusion to the predicament they found themselves in. Should she trust him, a foreign agent, over a coworker? Tony wasn’t so sure she would. The increasing doubt he saw in her eyes didn’t give him much hope.

Fortunately, Tali explained Tony didn’t know they were sisters until he saw Ziva’s picture on the mantle and asked about her.

Opening the first aid kit she had brought in from the other room, Tali inquired, in a tone that told her sister it was not open for discussion, if it was okay to care for Tony’s wounds. She knew enough about Mossad interrogations that tending to a prisoner’s wounds wasn’t even on the list, unless there was a chance of the prisoner dying before spilling the information they needed. Ziva nodded her consent and Tali asked him to remove his shirt so she could check his injuries.

He couldn’t stop the smirk that formed on his lips as he watched Ziva’s eyes lower to his chest after he had removed his shirt.

“If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.”

“Just making sure my earlier assessment of your level of fitness was correct,” she replied. The unimpressed look she gave him, brought his ego down a notch or two. Not so much because of what she’d said , but the way she’d said it. He’d been on the receiving end of comments like that before from female coworkers, including his late partner Kate. The main difference was that they always sounded snarky, which Tony took as proof that he was getting under their skin, making them uncomfortable. Their body language always gave them away. Ziva, however, wasn’t giving anything away. And trying to determine whether she really was unimpressed or just very good at hiding it was giving him a headache.

While Tali took care of his injuries, which were as he’d assumed relatively superficial and didn’t require stitching, Tony tried again to get the Mossad agent on his side. Ziva eventually suggested to set up a meeting between Tony and Ari. She would stay in the background, in case anything went wrong and Ari did turn out to be a double agent.

She left the room to call Ari and set up the meeting. And while he could hear, but not understand the hushed Hebrew coming from the other room. The fact that Tali appeared to have become increasingly more nervous during the conversation about Ari, hadn’t escaped his attention. She seemed to be more focused on trying to listen in on the phone call than tend to his wounds. There was definite worry on her face.

He was just about to ask her what was wrong, when Ziva entered the room again, a hard look on her face. She briefly glanced at Tony, before turning her gaze on her younger sister.

Whatever Tali asked her sister in Hebrew made Tony wonder whether teaming up with a Mossad agent who was defying orders to meet with another Mossad agent who had gone rogue was such a bright idea. He didn’t have any back-up, besides Ziva, and to be completely honest, he wasn’t entirely convinced she was coming along as his back-up or Ari’s.

He could see something shift in Ziva’s eyes after hearing her sister’s distressed question. There was conflict there. Looking back at Tali he could see conflict on her face as well. He was clearly missing out on some important detail.

Ziva’s answer came in a clipped tone, and he could tell she was trying hard not to let any emotion show.

Tali looked away, blinking rapidly. He could tell she was trying hard not to cry. Tired of not knowing what was going on between them, he directed his attention to Tali, thinking he had a better chance of getting a glimpse of an answer from her than from the Mossad officer.

“Do you know Ari?”

Before her sister had a chance to answer, Ziva replied “Yes, he came over to discuss a mission a couple of months ago.” She gave her sister a look which clearly told her the conversation was over. “You are meeting Ari at an abandoned warehouse in an hour,” she said. “We can be there in 15 minutes. I suggest we leave now and discuss the details on the way over. Ari will not be able to make it there sooner, so we will have the advantage of inspecting the warehouse layout before the meeting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the last chapter tomorrow; haven't checked it for typos yet, and it's getting late here.


	3. Chapter 3

True to her word, 15 minutes later Tony and Ziva were walking up to the warehouse entrance. Tony on shaky legs, he was pretty sure the Israeli had just tried to kill him during the short drive. A drive that would’ve taken any normal person without a death wish at least twice as long.  
  
A thorough sweep of the warehouse proved they were indeed the first ones there. As agreed earlier, Ziva took up a hidden position behind Tony. When she had asked Ari on the phone if he had killed the NCIS agent he had denied having anything to do with it. By staying hidden and letting DiNozzo do all the talking, she hoped Ari would be more inclined to talk about what really happened, assuming DiNozzo was telling the truth. And if either man posed a risk, she would be in the perfect position to take him out.  
  
With about 10 minutes left before Ari’s arrival, Tony decided to check in with Gibbs and give him an update of everything that had happened in the past couple of hours. No doubt his team was still trying to figure out why he had been targeted by a sniper. After explaining how he had run into the sniper after surviving the bombing, he told him about the current plan to get Ari to admit to Kate’s murder. Gibbs was less than pleased with the fact that, not only was Tony unarmed, he had to rely on an assassin who had tried to kill him earlier that day—and who clearly had ties to Ari—to provide back-up.  
  
With a promise to contact NCIS as soon as the meeting was over, Tony hung up the phone, just as he heard the door to the warehouse open.  
  
Pressing record before pocketing his phone, Tony turned towards the footsteps heading in his direction. He wasn't surprised to see Ari appear in the doorway with his gun pointing at his chest. He just hoped Ziva wasn't pointing her gun at his back, as well.  
  
"I heard you were looking for me, agent DiNozzo. I must say, I'm disappointed agent Gibbs doesn't do his own dirty work. He seemed rather persistent in finding out who murdered Kate."  
  
"We have proof you killed her. You should've cleaned up your brass before you fled the country with your tail between your legs."  
  
"If I had, agent Gibbs wouldn't have known I was the one who shot Kate."  
  
As much as Tony tried not give any emotion away, he couldn't help the faint look of surprise at hearing Ari confess so easily. Of course, he'd seen enough movies to know that the bad guys only confess their crimes voluntarily when they think they have the upper hand. And are about to cut the good guy's life short.  
  
"I warned Gibbs he couldn’t keep his women safe."  
  
"What's your beef with Gibbs, anyway? I mean, I've been working for him for a couple of years, so I'm well aware of what a bastard he can be," he was sure his boss was going to head slap him to the moon for that, assuming he made it back to the States without any ventilation holes, "and he's pissed off a lot of people in the line of duty, but I can't figure out what your problem is."  
  
"You're right, he is a bastard. And he reminds me of my father."  
  
"What's the worst your father did to you? Send you to a fancy school in Scotland to become a doctor? Disapprove of the girl you wanted to marry? Or wait, maybe he refused to marry your mother and recognize you as his son. Considering how you turned out, I can't blame the guy. Of course, that would make you the bastard."  
  
"He killed my mother. And you are correct, he did pay for my education to become a doctor. That was necessary, seeing how he raised me to become a mole in Hamas. He wanted me to work in the Gaza camps and report back suspicious activity to Mossad. Deputy Director David ordered me to visit him in Tel Aviv and give him an update, the same day he ordered a retaliatory strike on the Gaza camps for a Hamas bombing. My mother did not survive the strike. Nothing would please me more than to see his face when he discovers his plan backfired and his own son betrayed him. "  
  
That was an answer Tony didn't expect. What struck a nerve though, was the mention of Deputy Director David. Ziva had said before they left the apartment that it was a common Israeli name, but she never answered his question, whether or not the deputy director of Mossad was her father.  
  
He didn't have long to think about those family ties, from Ari's body language Tony concluded that Ari was done explaining his reasoning for becoming a terrorist and becoming obsessed with Gibbs. With a determined look on his face, Ari pointed the gun at Tony's head.  
  
"You're not Gibbs, but I guess you'll do-"  
  
Hearing a gunshot, for a split second Tony was sure he'd end up on a cold slab down in autopsy. But then he saw Ari go down and he realized that trusting the gorgeous assassin who had led him here, hadn't been a mistake after all.  
  
From behind him, he could hear Ziva walk out from the darkness she had been hiding in. She stopped a couple of feet from Ari's body. Tony turned towards her and took a step closer, glancing at the blood that was pooling around Ari's head.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me he was your brother," he asked in soft voice.  
  
"Half brother. It was not relevant," she said without taking her eyes of Ari’s dead body. She was trying hard to keep it together, but she couldn’t keep the pain of her face.  
  
Not knowing what to say, after all, what do you say to someone who just shot a family member to protect a complete stranger, Tony brushed his hand lightly against hers and went outside.  
  
As he ascended the stairs he could hear her quietly start to sing something in Hebrew. Though she had a beautiful voice, the sadness in it was heart wrenching.  
  
Once outside he checked his phone to make sure Ari’s confession was recorded. The recording was clear enough to understand, even though the phone had been in his pocket the whole time. So Tony decided to call Gibbs, let him know he was still alive and that Ari was finally dead. Before he had the chance to mention the recorded confession, he heard the door open and shut. Ziva walked towards him at a steady pace, so he told his boss he’d call back later and hung up.  
  
Her face was unreadable, the same as it had been most of the day. Her dark eyes, though, showed nothing but turmoil, guilt, regret, anger.  
  
“Was that your boss?”  
  
“Yeah. I told him I was alright and that Ari’s dead. Nothing else.”  
  
She nodded, averting her eyes. Turning around again, facing the building where her half brother’s body lay, she said, “I have to notify Mossad.”  
  
Tony briefly wondered how that conversation would go, “Oh hey dad, guess what, I just shot your son in the head. Sunday dinner still on?” Somehow, he doubted Ziva would get off with a simple, “We understand, you had no choice.” He had to do something to help her.  
  
Reaching out a hand to lightly tap her on the shoulder, he thought better of it and softly said her name instead. Her hand with the phone stopped it’s trajectory to her ear and she minutely turned her head to the side, signaling tony to speak.  
  
“I um,” he hesitated, “I have a recording, on my cell phone, of everything Ari said. Will that help you? You know, seeing as you went against your orders.” She nodded almost imperceptibly and continued bringing the phone to her ear.  
  
Tony tried to gauge how the conversation was going by listening to the tone of her voice. To him, it sounded pretty business like, free of emotions. He wondered whether she had called her father or perhaps a direct superior. If he had a brother he certainly wouldn’t want to tell his father over the phone that he had died. Especially not at his hands. Perhaps the even tone of the conversation meant she was leaving certain information out.  
  
The conversation took less than a minute. Pocketing her phone, he could see her straighten her shoulders and take a deep breath before turning around to speak to him, informing him that Mossad officers were on their way and that they should wait until they arrived at the scene. She added that the deputy director wanted to see both of them in his office as soon as possible.  
  
He felt some of the blood drain from his face. This was the man who had sent his daughter, the one standing in front of him who had saved his life mere minutes ago, out to assassinate him less than a week ago.  
  
Seeing his reaction, Ziva assured him he had nothing to worry about. She had told the deputy director about the recorded confession and the fact that Tony had already made contact with NCIS. Mossad had no reason to kill him anymore.  
  
Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he could see her neutral expression begin to shift. Her jaw clenched and she shut her eyes, for just a second, before looking slightly to her right off into the distance.  
  
He wanted to ask her if she would be okay, what the repercussions would be for not following orders in the first place, whether Mossad would fire her, or perhaps even lock her up for treason or something. Looking at her trying to keep that damned neutral expression on her face, he figured now was not the time.  
  
It’s funny, really, a day ago Tony would’ve just blurted out whatever he was thinking. No one had ever managed to render him tongue-tied. There was just something about this woman.  
  
It wasn’t her beauty, he’d seen and been with plenty of drop dead gorgeous girls. He’d never had a problem talking nonstop, distracting and confusing them, charming them into doing pretty much whatever he wanted. Ziva was different. She gave as good as she got. Something the women he always dated seemed incapable of.  
  
Wait, why was he comparing her to previous dates? Yes, had the circumstances been different he certainly would’ve tried to charm his way into her bed, heck, he had a feeling she probably would’ve initiated the whole thing, but-  
  
“They are here.”  
  
He glanced in the direction she was looking. Sure enough, a car and a van were approaching them quickly. How long had he been lost in thought?  
  
A feeling of dread came over him. He’d never dealt with Mossad before today. And he still wasn’t 100% convinced he was safe around them, despite what Ziva had said earlier.  
  
The vehicles came to a stop next to the building. Ziva told Tony to wait by the car while she approached the four men that had emerged from the vehicles. They followed her into the building, two of them carrying a gurney.  
  
After 15 minutes of coming up with all kinds of doom scenarios about double crossing agents, and resisting the urge to go after her, just in case she was in trouble, he saw her exit the building and walk towards him.  
  
“Let’s go,” was all she said to him, as she got into the driver’s seat.  
  
The 20 minute drive to Mossad headquarters was spent in complete silence, and in Tony’s case, complete terror. She led him to her father’s office, somewhere on the third floor. As soon as the secretary saw Ziva, she picked up the phone.  
  
The secretary said something to Ziva, who got to her feet and told Tony to wait here. He wasn't sure what to make of that. She had told him her father wanted to see both of them. He spent the next 10 minutes wondering what was happening in the deputy director's office.  
  
There was no yelling. Which surprised him, to be honest. Or maybe the office was just soundproof. Maybe they were coming up with a cover story. A rogue Mossad operative killing US federal agents wasn't exactly something to advertise.  
  
The buzz from the secretary’s phone brought him out of his thoughts. She hung up and told Tony with only a faint accent that he could go in now.  
  
Taking a second to put on his game face he got up and entered the office.  
  
The first thing he saw was Ziva standing at attention in front of the desk. She didn't acknowledge him, just kept staring in front of her. Her jaw was clenched and she looked a bit pale.  
  
He turned his attention to the man sitting behind the desk.  
  
"Agent DiNozzo. I'm deputy director David. Looks like we have a bit of a situation."  
  
"You believed a Hamas terrorist and put a hit on me. In my opinion, calling that "a bit of a situation" is a bit of an understatement," he said unable to hide his anger.  
  
"Yes, well, that was unfortunate."  
  
Tony huffed. Was this guy for real? Or was it just typical higher management behavior.  
  
"I have spoken to your director. In order to keep the ties between our agencies and countries strong, your official report of what happened today will need to be...adapted. You will not mention Officer David's original orders. Nor will you mention that she was the one who took out Ari Haswari. Your report will show that he confessed to his crimes, the recording is proof of that, and that you killed him in self defense with a bullet to the head."  
  
At hearing those words, Tony immediately looked towards Ziva who was still standing there unmoving. He wondered what she thought of all this. Though he certainly understood why she wouldn't want it in writing that she killed her own brother. He supposed the report would be flattering to the higher ups in the US government. A US agent one-upping a Mossad operative, and one that had gone rogue at that, who was the head of a Hamas splinter cell would stroke a lot of American egos. And he had to admit, it would look good in his file, even though that didn't really matter much to him. He was happy in his current job and had no immediate plans for leaving. It would take some time to adjust to working without Kate there, though. None of her predecessors had stuck it out with Gibbs as long as she had.  
  
"I have arranged a flight home for you tomorrow morning. Director Sheppard has agreed to send me a copy of your report as soon as you finish it. Ziva, you will receive your new orders shortly."  
  
From the corner of his eye he could see her give a small nod. Mossad sure didn't waste any time keeping their officers busy, he thought.  
  
"Agent DiNozzo, have a safe flight home. You are both dismissed."  
  
The whole meeting couldn't have taken more than a couple of minutes. And DiNozzo's head was still reeling from the fact that the deputy director of Mossad and director of NCIS apparently had no problems falsifying reports. Well, he wasn't really surprised about Mossad doing so. And to be honest, he hadn't really gotten to know director Sheppard since she had taken over from Morrow about a week ago.  
  
After exiting the office Tony turned towards Ziva to ask her how the meeting with her father had gone before he joined them. He never got a chance.  
  
"Thank you for saving my sister, Agent DiNozzo." Pointing towards a man waiting by the elevator she continued, "Officer Malka will escort you outside. I wish you a safe flight home."  
  
Her business-like behavior threw him off a little and she had already turned on her heels and headed for the stairs, not the elevator, before he'd had the chance to say something. Feeling slightly offended at the cold shoulder he'd been given, he watched her retreating back disappear through the door and said loudly, "We should do this again sometime. Only with less shootings and bombings."  
  
He got the feeling the talk with daddy David hadn’t gone so well, but he didn't think he'd ever get the opportunity to ask her in person. Heck, he'd probably never see her again, considering he would be back in DC soon. He felt a momentary pang of regret at the thought. Despite her at times cold behavior, he guessed most of that was training, he'd really enjoyed their banter earlier that day. You know, before she had to shoot her own brother to save him. Right, not exactly a great way to get to know someone.  
  
Having called his boss, leaving out some of the details of his one-sided conversation with the deputy director of Mossad, and eaten something at a small restaurant, he'd decided to just go back to his room and pack for his early flight. Maybe work on that report. He wasn't used to writing fiction, so it would take him a bit longer to make it believable. Though, he was certain his new director wouldn't hesitate to point out any flaws in his narrative. He'd entertained the thought of drinking himself into a stupor, but he really didn't want to spend an international flight with a hangover. And Gibbs would expect him to report back as soon as he arrived in DC.  
  
After packing the majority of his stuff, he opened his laptop and started working on the report. Reliving everything that had happened that day, he couldn't help but get distracted by memories of the gorgeous Israeli smirking at him with twinkling eyes when she had bumped into him. Deciding he should get some sleep, he could finish the report on the plane, he called it a night.  
  
His dreams had kept him from a good night sleep; they were riddled with a certain sexy spy, bombs, bullets, dead bodies and cold looks. Luckily the flight home was uneventful and he'd managed to finish the report and get some shut-eye before landing.  
  
It was barely 6 PM when he arrived at Dulles airport, so he decided to go in to the Navy Yard, print his report and drop it on Gibbs' desk. In all likelihood he would still be at the office anyway.  
  
Walking into the bullpen an hour later he was surprised to see all the desks empty. He grabbed his phone to call Gibbs to let him know he was back and would leave the report on his desk, when he heard director Sheppard call his name from the catwalk, asking him to come up to her office and bring his report.  
  
She offered him a drink, asked how his flight was and not even waiting for a reply, asked to see the report. He handed it over silently. With everything that had happened the past 2 weeks, a long flight home, and seeing Kate's empty desk again, he'd apparently lost the ability to come up with witty comments. So he sipped his drink instead, while the director went over the report.  
  
When she closed the file, he asked, "Fictional enough for you?"  
  
His disapproval at having to write anything but the truth was clearly evident on his face, when the director replied, "Ziva went against orders and ended up killing her brother, a Mossad operative, because of it. How well do you think behavior like that is received at Mossad?"  
  
His eyes went a little wider at that. He had wondered about what the repercussions would be for her, but after the meeting with Deputy Director David, he assumed it wouldn't be as bad as he had initially thought. He was her father after all. Surely he wouldn't have her thrown in jail or something over defying an order. When he was asked, told really, to make some creative adjustments in his report, he had assumed it had more to do with international politics than anything else. Now he wasn't so sure.  
  
"Ziva is lucky Mossad doesn't like red tape. Nothing about her covert mission to kill you was documented and only three people knew about it. Ari, the deputy director and Ziva."  
  
"Well, I guess that makes five now," he said.  
  
"Yes. And it should stay that way. Agent Gibbs is not to be told what really happened. Is that clear?"  
  
"You do realize he's a human lie detector, right?" he huffed, "He'll find out the truth."  
  
"You've worked undercover before, Agent DiNozzo. I know you can keep secrets, despite your apparent need to fill every second of silence with words." She looked at him pointedly. He just glanced to the side and sighed.  
  
"Is that all, ma'am? I'd like to go home and enjoy the fact that I'm not dead."  
  
"Yes. I'll see you tomorrow, agent DiNozzo," she said, handing over the report so he could place it on Gibbs' desk.  
  
He nodded, got up and walked out of the office feeling like he had aged ten years since his partner's murder.  
  
Picking up his bag where he had left it next to his desk, he stared at Kate's desk for a while.  
  
"We got him Kate," he said with a look of both relief and regret on his face, before heading towards the elevator to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you’ve read all the way through this, thank you. I hope you got something out of it, in spite of the plot holes and the at times awkward writing.
> 
> I know this isn’t the Tiva ending most wanted/expected. Like I mentioned at the beginning, I had vague plans to write an epilogue. This would’ve dealt with Ziva ending up at NCIS, and her relationships with Tony and Gibbs, which would’ve been slightly different than canon, seeing how she saved Tony, not Gibbs.


End file.
